


Have a biscuit, Potter.

by supercala_docious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts First Year, Introverted character, Sorting Ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercala_docious/pseuds/supercala_docious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to popular belief, James Sirius Potter is not a hooligan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a biscuit, Potter.

**Author's Note:**

> HI!!! 
> 
> So this is my one and only self-created Harry Potter Headcannon.  
> I know it's exactly the opposite of what others think, but I really like it and my friends really like it, so i wrote it.
> 
> I also posted this on Wattpad!!! So if you find it there THAT'S ALSO ME!! :)
> 
> ENJOY!!

The first week at Hogwarts is always the hardest.

For James Sirius Potter, it was the second worst week he'd ever experienced.

People had this predetermined idea of what the eldest son of the Boy-Who-Lived would act like. They expected him to be some sort of mash of his father and his two namesakes. They thought he would rule the school and get into trouble all the time while still being a loveable Potter.

Unfortunately for James, this was not the case.

Around his family, yes, he was rowdy and had a Weasley-esque sense of humor, but around strangers he was sheltered and shy. The exact opposite of what people expected.

**********

On his first day of his first year at Hogwarts, James somehow ended up alone in a train compartment. That year, the train wasn't even close to being full and nobody lost a toad, so James spent the ride to school with his owl which was both very good and very bad.

The first half of the ride was fine. He had already accepted the fact that he was leaving home, he had on his favorite sweater (forest green with a large J on the front), and his wand was perfect (red wood, flippy, with a unicorn hair core).

The second half of the ride, however, was a disaster. A seventh year girl had poked her head in to let him know they were halfway there and that was the moment James swore his stomach fell through the floor of the train. His heart hammered in his chest and the small compartment began to feel too small.

It had suddenly hit him that he was a Potter. A boy named after two astounding wizards with mile long reputations that spanned generations.

He couldn't possibly live up to that.

James tried everything he could think of to calm himself and take his mind off his worry. He took deep breaths, he paced, he thought of his annoying brother. He tried singing, jumping jacks, and yoga. He even tried to transfigure his ipod into a tiny robot.

By the time he ran out of ideas, the train had reached its destination. Thankfully he had stopped shaking like a leaf and could talk without his voice quivering.

He stepped off the train and approached Hagrid. He felt slightly better being by someone he knew and he greeted Hagrid with a hug, much to the astonishment of the rest of the first years.

He claimed a seat next to Hagrid on the leading boat across the lake and tried not to think about how he would no longer have the supporting presence of a friend when he entered the school.

After the painfully short boat ride, the wait outside the great hall made things even worse. James felt like the suspense was literally killing him.

He lingered at the back of the group, knowing the kids in front got sorted first because magic.

When he finally reached the front, he realized that having the possibility of being last sorted might be worse than being first.

And that's exactly what happened. He ended up standing next to an equally shaky boy with equally messy black hair who ended up being called before he did.

James was convinced that the sorting hat had it out for him because it took a solid three minutes to sort the second-to-last first year into Slytherin.

Now it was James.

He felt like the world was moving in slow motion as Professor McGonagall raised the list up to read off the last name.

"James Sirius Potter."

 

A deafening silence fell over the great hall as he stepped up to the small stool. He sat down in a way that could have been seen as calm and McGonagall gently lowered the hat to rest on his head.

His calm facade shattered when he flinched when the hat began to speak.

"Oh, I've been looking forward to you. The first child of Harry Potter.

I remember when I sat on your father's head. I saw the same things I'm seeing now you know.

He asked me to not place him in Slytherin. A brave thing. The true question of a Griffindor.

But now I have a question for you.

What do you want to be?"

The question took James by surprise. Why is it asking him? Doesn't the hat already know where people are supposed to go?

"W-What?"

"You heard me. What do you want to be?"

He thought for a moment. He thought for as long as his nerves would allow him to.

"G-Griffindor. I want to be brave. I don't want to be scared of every decision I make. I don't want to feel like this anymore. I know it won't be easy and I know it won't happen without effort, but being a cowardly lion might just do the trick."

"You almost phrased that better than I.

GRIFFINDOR."

It took James four minutes and forty two seconds to be sorted.


End file.
